Outsmarted, Outgunned, Outwitted, and Dwarfed
by Doppler Effect
Summary: Mustang's team hears about the acceptance of a rather young alchemist into the military. Sensing a chance to poke holes into their superior officer's massive ego, they take it.


"So," Havoc said before Mustang could even close the door as he returned from his meeting, "we have a new state alchemist." Mustang grunted in acknowledgement as he crossed the room and sat down behind his desk. "And he's a teenager."

"Yeah."

"Accomplished something you couldn't do until you were at least, oh…" Hughes pretended to count the years, "a decade older."

"Don't say 'decade'," Mustang said crossly. "It makes me sound old."

"Well, compared to a _teenager_," Breda muttered, "_everyone's_ old."

"I'm not old." He barely looked up as Hawkeye deposited a stack of papers on his desk. "Lieutenant, am I old?"

"Yes, sir."

He gaped. "What? But- I'm-" Everyone else in hearing range burst into snickers. He glared at them. "Explain."

"Breda's right, sir. To a teenager, everyone who is older than them is extremely old, no matter the age."

"Exactly," Breda said smugly.

"Anyway," Hughes said, having not had his full of the previous topic, "he did an excellent job of impressing the right people, hm? Much better than Roy's state alchemist test." Mustang's glare narrowed in on him as the criticism came out of his mouth. Hughes smiled charmingly, unfazed.

Falman nodded wisely. "Certainly outsmarted him there."

Hughes dropped down behind the older man dramatically, hands on the back of his chair. "Could it be that we have a challenger to Mustang's intellect, the very same one that has been so studiously admired by his followers and stated as superior to our own? How could such an event occur?"

"If you want to admire his intellect," Mustang said dryly, "get your binoculars out because he's rather short and will be here any moment now."

Havoc put a hand to his forehead, pretending to faint. "Hear that, everyone? We'll get to meet the _master_ himself!"

Mustang set down the paper he had been looking at. "Alright, think about it this away. He's a brash, hot-headed teenager who a lot of people are going to be angry at because he's already a major while everyone else had to work their way to that rank. No one's going to back him up for a long while. On the other hand, I'll have plenty people behind me if something happens."

"_Way_ behind you," Hughes muttered. "Like, so far behind you, you wouldn't even see them there."

Mustang rolled his eyes. "Honestly. You'd back me up."

The rest of them (excluding Hawkeye, who was actually doing what she was being paid for), exchanged glances. "Well," Breda said with a grin, "we might not. I mean, a seasoned warrior beating up a helpless teenager? That's bad for public relations."

"Oh, and a helpless teenager beating up a seasoned warrior isn't?"

"No, that's just funny."

"Now you're outsmarted _and_ outgunned," Hughes said smugly.

The door opened and the Fullmetal Alchemist stepped in.

The reaction was rather unprofessional as no one had been paying attention to their actual job but Hawkeye. Fury dropped the stack of papers he had been carrying, Falman spilled his tea, and Hughes looked around blankly to see what was surprising everyone. After the momentary confusion, though, they were all saluting, Hughes more out of bewilderment than actual discipline and was facing Mustang. The Flame Alchemist kindly pointed him in the right direction. He glanced over his shoulder, spotted Edward Elric, and turned around, struggling to wipe a grin off his face.

"Okay…" the teenager said slowly. Somehow, the suit of armor behind him gave the impression of blinking in surprise. "That was…odd."

"It's a weird group," Mustang said offhandedly. "Okay, you understand you're supposed to report to me for missions and whatnot?"

"Yeah, although I don't know why." The rest of the room was still at attention, but were trying to bite back snickers as Mustang felt a vein in his temple start pulsing. Edward glanced at them. "Are you guys okay?"

"You have to release them from attention. Technically. They're not a very official group."

"Oh. Er, you're released?"

They dropped their hands, grins breaking out. "Usually," Hughes said, dropping beside Fury to help gather the papers, "you salute back and we're released from attention. That's if the people of lower rank are saluting you. If a person of higher rank is in the room, you salute first and it works the opposite way."

Edward eyed Mustang. "Does that mean I have to salute _him_?"

"Yeah, but don't worry about it."

"We don't!" Havoc called out. He paused. "Uh, sir."

"Whoops, forgot that," Hughes muttered. "It's weird."

"I know, right?"

The headache in Mustang's head was growing, but Alphonse spoke before he could. "Wait, so if someone younger than Nii-san and someone older are in the room, then how…?"

"Then you're screwed and he should try his hardest not to laugh as everyone works it out," Hughes deadpanned.

"And what do I do?"

"Nothing," Hawkeye said."You're civilian, so don't worry about it."

"Alright," Mustang interrupted. If you're all done…" They smirked but became quiet. "_Anyway_, you're technically reporting to me. There is no way in hell I'm sending you out for public relations expenditures – " more suppressed snickers from the peanut gallery, "-and I'd rather not have to deal with you too much. Besides, you have something to do, and the faster you get that over with, the sooner you're out of my list of problems."

"You _keep track_ of your problems on a _list_?"

"No! It was just a- never mind. Focus."

"Yeah, sure."

"I'm going to give you orders to essentially tour the country and fix any problems you come across. There'll be some..._a lot_ of limitations, but for the most part, you'll be unsupervised and free to do what you need to do."

"Wow, talk about unaccompanied minors."

"_Where_ are your priorities?"

"Above yours, apparently. I mean, unprofessional soldiers, keeping lists of all your problems – which must be quite the upkeep, probably needs to pay its own rent for the space it takes up -, and letting two non-adults loose on the country with military verifications in their pockets. Seriously – damn."

"Do you want my help or not? No, don't answer that. And you five!"

"Us, sir?" Fury said weakly, the only male still upright of the junior officers.

"Yes, you! Stop…_guffawing_. It's incredibly distracting."

"Sorry, sir."

Everyone left with a shred of dignity ignored the fully grown men rolling with laughter under their desks.

"Okay, is that it?" Edward asked.

"Yeah, yeah, get out of here," Mustang gestured towards the door. "Hughes, get up! Havoc, I'll tell your latest girlfriend you roll around on the floor more with your male military associates in the office more than you do with her."

The door closed behind the Elrics.

"And _outwitted_," Hughes snickered, climbing onto a chair, ignoring Breda's protest that it was at his desk. "Mustang, you need to _up_ your game, 'cause you're getting '_out'-ted._"

Mustang glared at him.

"I heard he can do alchemy without a circle," Havoc said with a smile.

"Yeah."

"You can't do that, sir."

"Shut up!"

"Careful, Mustang," Hughes said, grinning. "You might be getting dwarfed by a kid."

They all covered their ears as a yell came from the hallway. "_WHO ARE YOU CALLING-_?"


End file.
